To Love a Noble Heart
by GlassSerendipity
Summary: Princess Julchen has been burdened by royal inconveniences before, but nothing compares to the situation she finds herself in after her brother's coronation. Secrets and betrayals, two strangers must choose to fall in love or run away from their duties. Or maybe a little bit of both. Fem!prussia X Canada.
1. The Princess and the Stranger

Once upon a time, there lived a princess. A princess who genuinely loved her kingdom and its people. Her hair was long and almost silvery white like frost. Strands drifted slightly from the breeze coming from the open window. Her pale skin was like moonlight and her eyes were an astonishing shade of red. She was as beautiful as she was startling. The princess was a rarity, and though she looked different than anyone else, she wore it with pride.

She gazed out at the forest surrounding her castle. The night was calm and cool. Carriages of important guests dropped off their passengers at the castle and drove away. Further out, the city went to sleep after a long day of work, nestled among the trees. The princess loved her country very much, but that night she knew it would be the last time she would ever be its princess. She smiled.

"Princess," a servant arrived at the door of her antechamber. "It's time for your entrance."

She stood up and smoothed out the fabric of her black and white dress. The embroidery design was simple, about as much as she had the patience for, but the silk threads were a familiarity on her fingers. The dress was also bound tight just a little past the point of comfortable. "Let's get this party started!"

"Presenting, his majesty, King Ludwig III and her royal highness, Princess Julchen Marie." The courtier announced just as the princess showed up to link her elbow with her brother's. The king gave her a look of restrained annoyance and escorted her down the stairs to the sound of applause and music.

"Is it okay if I pretend all of this attention is for me?" she joked.

"Jules, what took you so long?" the King said under his breath.

"Yeah, well, this is my last night as a princess. I'm allowed to be at least a little reflective. Besides, you need to relax. It's your birthday party."

"It's more than that. I've only just been coronated. I need to make a good impression. Like I know what I'm doing."

"You need to learn how to enjoy yourself a little at these things. Everyone knows that you're more than prepared to be king. And rumor has it you've got a top knotch team of advisors to help you out." She nudged her brother suggestively.

King Ludwig inhaled. "Jules, we need to talk about that..."

"But not tonight. All my friends are here, so while you're handling all the important business talk, I'm going to be enjoying the party for the both of us."

The king was soon trapped by conversation, so the princess made her escape. It didn't take her long to find her friends. Both Princess Antonia and Princess Francesca were far too attached to their wine than what would normally befit a princess, and neither seemed to care. They had no problems chatting up eligible men when they were already attached, as well as laughing loud enough their giggles could be heard from the other side of the ballroom. Frequently at these sorts of occasions, the three of them would sneak off and cause some sort of mischief, especially when they were younger. Jules missed that time, but as the three of them grew older interests and duties changed.

"You know, if my fiancé saw me talking to you, he would have a fit," the brunette princess chatted to one of the earls, completely unaware that the way she was leaning in and casually touching his shoulder. To her, it wasn't flirtatious but intentions are often different from perceptions. "Lucky for us, he's not here."

"Honestly, I'm not sure why it's taking him so long to ask." The other tucked her perfectly coiffed honey blonde hair behind her ear. "Someone like me isn't available for long. The longer I wait, the more likely I am to change my mind. Princes are so flighty. They show interest but can never seem to commit. So many nobility come up to me and expect me to match their affections based on sweet nothings, but my heart is not so easily won."

"Yes, what wins your heart is money and a title," Jules announced her presence to her friends, as if the fanfare hadn't been enough.

Princess Francesca gave Jules a sly look. "Better than you, my dear. At this rate, no one will even want your hand."

"Good," Jules replied and took the wine offered by Antonia. "Besides, I'll be taking my own vows soon."

"What vows?" Antonia asked.

Francesca rolled her eyes. "Please don't tell me you're joining a convent."

"Knighthood. Luddy says he'll make me knight commander." Jules beamed.

"Wow, congratulations!" Antonia said.

"Good for you!" Francesca joined as well. "But just so you know, if you ever change your mind about getting married, I know a couple of very eligible, blue blooded men that would love to marry first born royalty."

Unfortunately, being firstborn in Deutrussia did not mean as much than it did in Francesca's or even Antonia's country. Antonia was an only child and would inherit her kingdom when it was time. Her country was comparatively poorer, so she was engaged from a young age to the son of a neighboring country who was also first born. Once they were wed, their countries would merge. As for Francesca, she wasn't first born, but her beauty and charm gave her a slew of bachelors to choose from, which she did so frequently.

"I'm pretty sure I've scared them all off at this point," Jules confessed. Of the three, Jules had the least pleasant personality. She enjoyed being blunt and honest about how she felt. She seemed to find out the true personalities of people that way. She saw no use for a husband if she didn't even like them and moving to another country was what she wanted the least. "Speaking of that, where's your real target? I figured you'd be stuck on him all night," Jules addressed Princess Francesca, taking a sip of the wine.

Francesca scowled. "I could have sworn I saw him earlier, but he keeps disappearing on me."

Something about that didn't sound right to Jules. Prince Alfred was not the type to just disappear. Honestly, Jules hadn't seen him in a few years thanks to a certain incident, but based on her experience growing up with him, there was no way he'd be anywhere else but the spotlight. She looked to see who her brother was talking to. It was the king of Ameranda, Alfred's father, but the prince was nowhere in sight.

"Honestly, I wouldn't be all that surprised if he refused to show his face here, international scandal aside," Jules commented.

"No, Francesca's right. I saw him, too," Antonia added. "We talked about harvest yields for the year."

To Jules, that sounded even less like Prince Alfred. It's true that he was first born and should be having conversations like that with other future leaders, but that wasn't him.

"I'm going to go look for him," Princess Francesca declared. "Anyone care to join me?"

A couple of the lords surrounding her volunteered like the lovesick puppies they were.

"Princess Antonia..." A hand reached out a grabbed Antonia by her hand. The man was visibly fuming, unable to hide his dissatisfaction even during a state affair such as this.

Antonia cringed and turned. "Darling, I thought that you weren't going to make it until later."

"My schedule opened up." He said curtly.

The man Antonia was talking to bowed politely, addressed the prince, and dismissed himself.

"Honestly, Antonia, I'm getting this close to canceling the treaty..." Prince Romano seethed under his breath. "I will not let me or my country be made a fool."

"Darling, don't be over dramatic. I was just being friendly."

"A little too friendly..."

Jules let them go about their rude little lover's spat. From the corner of her eye, she saw someone leave the ballroom out onto one of the balconies. She thought she saw who they were but had to make sure. She downed the rest of her wine and excused herself from the conversation she was only half listening to.

Leaning over the balcony was a man dressed in blue formalwear. Handsome. Blond. Quiet as he sighed and breathed in the night air. His hair was on the longer side. Wavy. It looked soft in the dim candlelight.

"Didn't expect to see you hiding out here," Jules said as she joined him.

He flinched in surprise. "Ah, Princess Julchen. I was just making my way over to greet you."

Jules stifled a laugh. "I highly doubt that. And you can drop the formalities. It's just us, and I don't care."

He laughed nervously. "Right, well..."

"So, why are you hiding?" Jules asked.

"Not hiding. Just catching my breath. When you're as popular as I am, so many conversations tend to wear on you," he said haughtily.

"Uh huh," Jules remarked doubtfully. "And you're sure you're just not trying to avoid me?"

"Avoid you? No, I would never. It'd be stupid to avoid you in your own home. Besides, it happened years ago. We were kids..."

"You can cut the act. I know, you're not Prince Alfred," Jules interrupted him.

He paused, then smiled. "Really? You can't even recognize me after all these years? Has my handsomeness overwhelmed you?" he joked. "Honestly, your highness, it's almost rude."

"You do have an uncanny resemblance. And you almost have the mannerisms right. You must have had a lot of practice to fool this many people, but Prince Alfred is much more of an unapologetic dick."

He had the decency to blush in embarrassment. "A person can change in a few years."

"Yes, but it'd take a miracle to make him grow out of that level of immaturity."

The man pursed his lips as he debated internally. "What should I have said instead?"

"First, you would have screamed like a baby. Then you would have said, 'Julchen! Someone get the crazy bitch away from me. Oh god, it was a joke! Please not again.'"

He stifled a laugh. Jules knew she was close to catching him.

"I...would not have said that," he continued to hold back. "In this hypothetical situation, where decorum means nothing of course, I probably would have challenged you to a rematch."

The princess opened her mouth to correct him, but paused and thought. "That does sound like Alfred. Stupid. So very stupid with useless masculinity. And you would have lost worse than the last time."

"I have no doubt about that, princess."

"Who are you?" Jules demanded.

"Prince Alfred of Ameranda," he replied.

"Don't lie to me. You're in my country. My brother is the king."

"Prince Alfred of Ameranda-" He said again.

"You lie to me again, and I'll give you the same treatment as Alfred, but worse."

"-'s body double. I'm his body double."

Princess Jules could hardly believe her own ears. "A body double? You expect me to believe Prince Alfred has a body double?"

"Yes, I'm standing in for him so that our country doesn't lose face. It'd be seen a gross negligence if we didn't send our crown prince to the coronation of one of our most powerful allies," he said.

Jules sighed. "I knew Ameranda was rich, but to think they'd waste all that time and money to find and keep a body double for a lousy prince? It must be stranger than I thought."

"Very strange. Could you tell me what exactly you did to Alfred?" he asked. "He wouldn't ever tell me, and obviously, it affected my act."

Jules grinned smugly. "So, the little bastard couldn't admit it. I beat him soundly after a practice duel and squeezed his family jewels for saying that being a knight was a dumb dream. You would have needed to find a new heir if we hadn't have been separated by the commanders. He never apologized, but I think he was still recovering."

"He wouldn't speak for a week after that incident," he said in awe.

"Right, well, I'm sure he didn't want to admit that he was going to be the last of his bloodline because he insulted a princess. How long have you been his body double?" Jules asked.

"Since I was born, pretty much. Now that the cat's out of the bag, I've been meaning to thank you. Alfred is an asshole. The beating you gave him did make him mind his manners for a bit," the body double said.

"I'd gladly give him another lesson, but I guess he's not here. Where is he?"

"Sorry, Princess Julchen. I'm under orders from the king not to say a word. In fact, I really shouldn't have told you that I'm not him."

"It's Jules. And in that case, I'll just settle for your name. If you don't tell me, you're just an uninvited guest."

"It's Matthew."

Jules grinned. "Alright, Matthew. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance. I don't believe we have ever 'met' before."

"No, we haven't. I don't get involved much outside of our own nation's affairs. Since you were such a very strong candidate for Alfred to marry, the king thought it was important for Alfred to meet you himself," Matthew said.

"Interesting. That would have been quite rude if I had agreed to marry you, but got someone like Prince Alfred instead," Jules said.

Matthew opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind.

"So, Matthew, I'm curious. Have you ever gotten yourself into a situation to intentionally make it harder for Alfred?"

He laughed. "Well, I'm not doing too great right now. I do, sometimes, for things that need his attention that he tends to ignore. Diplomatic issues and what not. He's the one that usually makes more trouble for me, like the whole scandal with you."

"And do the two of you talk often?"

"We sort of have to. Despite his shortcomings, he is my best friend."

"But doesn't that make him like your only friend? I can't imagine there's really anybody who knows that you're Matthew and not him."

"I'm friends with a lot of the staff in the castle. They know who I am, or know I'm not Alfred, at least. But you're right. There's not a whole lot of people my age who know I exist."

"Well, you've got me now. Should Ameranda ever need advice from Deutrussia's military, I'll insist on you."

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "Princess Julchen, not to seem presumptuous, but are you flirting with me?"

Jules smiled coyly. "Maybe a little. Now that would be a scandal, if people saw the prince of Ameranda and the princess of Deutrussia alone together outside on a balcony. Especially after all of our history."

"Not to mention the Princess Francesca. She'd be heartbroken. Losing a crush and a best friend in a single evening." Matthew took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "As much as I appreciate the sentiment, your highness, I'm afraid it's not in the stars for us."

"Pity. We should talk again when I'm no longer a princess..."

"And I'm no longer Alfred's body double. I do hope that we meet again soon, Jules."

Matthew left first, returning to his duties as pretending to be Prince Alfred. Jules returned a little later, running into her brother.

"You two seemed to get along. What are you up to?" he asked.

"Nothing, honestly. He was just apologizing for being a dick when we were kids," I lied.

"Prince Alfred apologizing?" King Ludwig asked incredulously.

"I know, right? I think his father must have made him talk to me. So, what did you want to talk about? The knighting ceremony?"

"We can talk tomorrow, as you suggested. We can meet in the great hall first thing in the morning."

"Sounds to me like you're procrastinating. Not that I mind right now." Jules grabbed another glass of wine. "You know, I saw Prince Romano earlier. You know what that means..."

Jules elbowed her brother as a subtle shade of pink colored his cheeks. "That doesn't mean she's here..." Nevertheless, King Ludwig scanned the ballroom.

"Of course she's here. You should ask her to dance."

Ludwig was full on blushing now. "You know I don't dance. Besides, she wouldn't want to dance with me."

"Of course she would. It's your birthday. And you're the king. She can't say no." No proper princess would, and Venetia was a proper princess.

"Then, I definitely can't ask her."

Jules scowled. She loved her brother but she wished he would follow his heart instead of focusing on formalities and what others might think. She downed the rest of her glass again and grabbed her brother's hand.

"Jules, let go," he protested as she dragged him through the crowd. Jules only stopped as she got in front of Princess Venetia, who was wearing a green dress that highlighted the red in her ornately braided hair. She seemed surprised to see the siblings, or rather to see them approach so quickly. Still a model princess, she curtsied.

"Your highnesses," she said in her singsong voice.

Ludwig stiffed out a quick bow but was otherwise stiff as a board. Jules dipped her head in acknowledgement.

"Princess Venetia, you look lovely tonight. I'm sure my brother agrees."

Ludwig didn't show any response. He was barely even breathing. Venetia blushed prettily.

"Ah, thank you, Jules. You look lovely as well."

"My brother and I were just talking, and he was going on and on about how much he wanted to dance with you. He wanted to be sure you were the first person he danced with tonight."

Venetia beamed. It was easy to see why King Ludwig had been in love with this girl since they were children. Her smile lit up the room and even the stiffest of politicians were pulled in by her innocent charm. Jules often admired how powerful wife she would make in the right pairing. "It would be my pleasure, your majesty. I would love to dance with you."

It seemed to take a moment for Ludwig to wake up. He held out his hand. "May I?"

Venetia took his hand daintily and was escorted to the dance floor.

Jules could see he was never going to loosen up if he thought everyone was watching. True, everyone was looking at them, wondering if this was a political move, but she had an idea to create an even bigger scene.

"Prince Alfred" was standing with his "father." Jules approached the two boldly, barely remembering to curtsy to the king of Ameranda.

"Your majesty. If I may be so bold, I was hoping to borrow your son. Prince Alfred, might I have this dance?"

The pair of them blinked at her in astonishment. A new song was just beginning. The King's waltz. She knew she needed to act fast.

The king showed a bemused smile. "Go on, son. It's rude to keep her waiting."

"Ah, yes, father. Princess Julchen..." Matthew held out his hand and Jules took it quickly.

"What are you thinking?" He said in hushed tones. Already, people were unable to hold back their gasps. "Are you trying to cause a scandal now?"

"Yes," she whispered back. "I need to make a scene. If you're trying to save Alfred's reputation, you can pretend like you don't enjoy it."

"I never said I'd do that," he said.

Once they got to the dance floor, they quickly got into position.

Jules grinned. "Matthew, are you flirting with me?"

"Whoops."

Seeming to understand what she needed, Matthew swept Jules around the dance floor, exaggerating every move to essentially give Ludwig and Venetia the privacy they needed.

"Diplomatic and a dancer. You might as well be a prince. It's a shame it's just pretend," Jules said.

"It is a shame. But it looks like I'm not the only one pretending," he said.

"Oh? And what am I pretending to be?" Jules asked playfully.

"I'm not quite sure what you're pretending to be. Someone who doesn't care, obviously, when you do care a lot more than what others give you credit for. Believe me it's hard to find that passion in royalty. It's a real shame that you won't be a queen."

Jules' mouth gaped open slightly as she was stunned into silence. They continued to dance, as Matthew pulled her close for their final pose.

"Did I overstep?" he whispered.

"No, no..." she said dismissively.

The dance partners bowed to each other as the music stopped. Jules quickly turned back around and went back into the crowd. She suddenly wasn't in the partying mood.

"Jules..." Princess Francesca found her before she was able to escape the ballroom. "What in the world was that? Why were you and Prince Alfred together?"

"Luddy wanted me to dance with him as a show of our countries' relationship," Jules lied. She found she was telling a lot of lies tonight. "Don't worry. Prince Alfred is all yours to pursue."

Francesca seemed satisfied with the answer, so Jules made her exit.

She made her way to her room and gazed out the window. Jules loved her country very much, but she couldn't be its princess. She couldn't be its queen despite being first born and learning all that she could about being a good ruler on top of sitting through lessons on being a proper lady. She also loved her brother and could never wish ill on him. Still, her hunger for power and significance clashed with her sisterly nature. She would rather watch her brother succeed than to snatch her dream away from him.

So to Jules, the night was bittersweet, and no amount of partying or men with intriguing secrets would ease the aching in her heart.


	2. The Prince that Never Existed

Jules woke early the next morning despite the previous night's party. Most of the guests were still asleep, but old habits died hard for the ex-princess-to-be. She would wake up early every morning to go out training with the soldiers and Knights. It used to be a personal excursion, but she figured now it would be a part of her official duties. Still, the king wanted an audience with her this morning, so this was going to have to be a quick session.

On her way to the training fields, she saw a familiar someone standing on the cobblestones. He was framed framed in a pretty picture by the trees behind him and the sunrise coloring the sky.

"You lost, stranger?" she called out.

Matthew turned his head. "Princess Julchen! You're up early."

"I'm always up early. Where are you trying to go?"

"The throne room. I was told King Ludwig wanted an audience with the king of Ameranda and me," Matthew explained. "But I've seemed to have forgotten where it is. I tried to retrace my steps and ended up out here. Should've waited for the escort."

"Well, what a coincidence. I have an audience with my brother as well. As for your escort..." Jules offered her elbow. "I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me."

Matthew took her elbow, and the princess walked them back into the castle. They continued for a minute or two before Matthew cleared his throat. "I apologize for my behavior last night, your highness. It was inappropriate. I assure you, I did not mean any offense."

"Offense? Far from it. I find no offense from a playful conversation. I left the party early because I had too much to drink and all the twirling around on the dance floor left my head spinning."

Matthew seemed to find that funny. "For the rest of the evening, everyone tried to guess what rude thing I must have said to you."

"Well, that would be in character for Prince Alfred."

"I guess it was. But still, I'm glad that I am at least still in your good graces," he said.

It was Jules' turn to laugh. "I don't think anyone has ever referred to me as graceful."

"Then, they probably didn't have the pleasure of dancing with you."

Jules gave Matthew a look and smiled. "You really can't help yourself, can you?"

"Sorry, it appears not."

Jules sighed. "Well, it was fun while it lasted. When do you head back to Ameranda?"

"I thought we would leave this morning. This summons caught me by surprise. Do you know what he wants to discuss."

"I have no idea. My brother doesn't share much about his political interests, even with his own sister. It's what makes him a good king."

"And a frustrating ally," Matthew teased. "I hear your father was the same way."

Jules smiled from the memory. "He was a frustrating man all around." She had complicated feelings about her father. Even though she had fought with him often about about politics and her role in Deutrussia, she loved him fiercely. It had taken her a long time to get over his passing.

They walked in complete silence for a bit longer.

"I always seem to bring up the worst subjects. I apologize for my thoughtlessness. I really should stop sticking my nose into your affairs."

"No, you give me a lot to think about, Matthew. I like that."

Matthew pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. He ran his hand through his hair .

Jules grinned. "Looks like you can give it but you can't take it. That's adorable."

"You're teasing me..."

"Of course I am. And if you know what's good for you, you'll stop flirting with me. It's nice, but it does no good for either of us. Especially since we're still both pretending."

She knocked on the wide mahogany doors, and they were opened by two guards. The throne room was occupied by both the kings of Ameranda and Deutrussia.

"Good, you're both here," Ludwig said as they approached.

"I present Prince Alfred to you, your majesties," Jules introduced him. She gave a quick curtsy and turned to leave.

"Julchen, you can stay," her brother said.

The first word was enough reason for Jules to pause. Her brother never used her given name.

"Your majesty." It was Matthew's turn to bow.

"And I think we all know that this is not Alfred," confessed the King of Ameranda.

Matthew stopped mid-bow. He looked at his king in confusion. Jules feigned shock, making a mock show of it.

"King Ludwig and I have recently come to an agreement. There has been aggravated rebellion in one of Ameranda's colonies. Deutrussia has agreed to training our military and sending men if necessary in exchange for resources and trading ports," the King of Ameranda announced.

"That's...great news," Jules said with hesitation. She knew how desperate her country was struggling to stay competitive. They needed the resources and trading ports, but she knew no country was going to give that up without sacrifices they could not afford. Ameranda was the richest country in the world, still expanding, with ports in warm water. A treaty like this could fulfill all of their needs, but there wasn't a whole lot they could need from Deutrussia that they couldn't get already. This sounded too good to be true.

"That's not all that was in the treaty," King Ludwig continued. "As a sign of our alliance, to show the combined efforts of our two countries, there is to be a marriage."

It took a second for the rage to kick in. "You son of a bitch!" Jules yelled at her brother. "Your first day as king and you trade me off for some trading ports?! You promised! You promised me that I would be knight commander of Deutrussia! I was going to serve you until the day I died!"

"Jules, if you would just calm down..."

"I will not be calm! If you want a treaty so badly, why don't YOU marry Alfred!"

"No one is marrying Prince Alfred!" Ludwig finally spoke over his sister's rant.

Jules was confused. Matthew's anger took a bit longer to build, and it was much quieter than the princess's.

"The marraige is to be between Princess Julchen of Deutrussia and Prince Matthew of Ameranda," the King of Ameranda said, seemingly unfazed by the argument.

"No," Matthew stated simply.

"You're a prince?" Jules' voice cracked, feeling betrayed by everyone in that room.

"I have never been a prince a day in my life," Matthew seethed. "I am no one. I don't exist. Once Alfred marries or becomes king, I am free. That was the deal."

"Matters have changed..." The King of Ameranda had a melancholy look on his face.

Jules recovered. "Even if he is a prince, I am first born of Deutrussia. My children have the throne as their birthright. No one but the heir is even worthy enough to marry me." She knew how to play this game. The rules were drilled into her at a young age. Nothing mattered more to Deutrussian royalty than their pride.

"Prince Matthew is Alfred's twin and the heir to the Amerandan throne. Is that worthy enough for you, dear?" the King of Ameranda said.

Matthew's eyes went wide. "What happened to my brother?"

The Amerandan King went quiet. Ludwig stepped in. "Prince Alfred was sent to the colony to try to reach a resolution. There was an ensuing battle and the prince has gone missing. Reports have shown no signs of him for weeks."

Grief and anger started to shut Mathew down. Jules felt a sympathetic pain but she still had fight left.

"I still refuse. I'd rather be a nun!"

"Jules, be reasonable," Ludwig chided her.

"Reasonable?! I'm the only reasonable one here. I only just met this man, and you expect me to marry him?!"

"Yes." Ludwig said firmly. "Preparations are underway. You will marry him tonight."

"That's impossible," Matthew finally said. "A marraige here and now holds no claim in Ameranda."

Jules was so happy she could kiss him.

"I understand that. But our traditions will not let a princess leave Deutrussia without getting married first," Ludwig said.

"You will have a ceremony here and then one in Ameranda once the time is right," Matthew's father said.

"I can't believe you... I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU!" Jules shouted. She stormed out of the throne room.

"Jules, stop!" Ludwig ran to catch up with her. Jules stood fast and punched him in the face. The guards ran up and restrained the princess.

Jules stared down her brother. He looked more than hurt from the punch. "Take her away," he said. "Make sure she gets ready."

* * *

They didn't take her to prison, at least not the traditional sort. Jules was greeted by a gaggle of ladies-in-waiting. They stripped her down and scrubbed her until her skin was pink. Her hair was painstakingly combed as she was lectured, reminded really, of the many duties a wife has to her husband, the duties a queen has to her king. And when they were done with her, they turned her out to the chapel to pray. And pray she did. She prayed that she could get out of this. She asked for any other way besides marraige.

After a while, she was joined by another. Her brother kneeled down next to her.

"They weren't going to let me knight you, Jules."

"Bullshit, you're the king." Jules wiped the tears from her face.

"It takes more than one day as king to break down centuries of prejudice," he said. "You'll get to be queen. You'll have a better life in Ameranda."

"I'd rather stay in Deutrussia."

"I thought...it appeared that you liked this Matthew. I thought I was giving you the best option."

She finally looked at her brother. His black eye was prominent on the right side of his face, even in the dark lit room.

"I'm not you. Just because I choose to dance with someone, it doesn't mean I like them."

"What would you do if you were in my place?" He asked.

"I'd let you marry someone you were in love with," Jules answered him quickly. "I'd take a stand as ruler and not yield to foreign powers or the council. I'd let you have your dream."

"And that's why you'd make a great queen. Do you really want me to call off this wedding?" he asked. "Call off the entire treaty?"

Jules sighed. "Not the treaty, just the marriage."

"We can't have both. The Amerandans were very generous. Our country suffered no loss. I couldn't let losing my sister be the only deterrent."

"If the King of Belasom had offered resources and trading ports, would you have given me to him?" Jules snapped.

"Never..." Ludwig said. "These are our allies. Do you think Matthew to be that terrible of a man?"

"No." She returned to praying.

"Will you marry him?"

She didn't answer at first. "I will. I can't sacrifice my freedom if I never had it in the first place."

"I'm sorry, Jules," Ludwig finally said.

She held her brlther's face and looked him in the eye. "I hope when they paint my wedding they remember your black eye. Not even Father had the gall to marry me off."

"Dad always had a soft spot for you."

"Of course he did. I'm the oldest."

Ludwig hugged his sister. "I'm going to miss you."

"I don't want to hear that right now. I just want to get this over with."

* * *

Deutrussian weddings were somber affairs. Marriages were a promise between man, wife, and God. Participants were to appear as they were with no embellishments. Her dress was a plain white sheath, tied by a simple rope. Her veil was long and opaque. A silver circlet over the veil was the only show of wealth and royalty.

Matthew stood alone at the end of the aisle. There were no guests. The only witnesses were the kings. He hardly even looked at her the entire ceremony. He followed the priests instructions with silent obedience. Their wrists were tied together as they made their vows.

"I, Matthew, take you, Julchen, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part," he recited the cookie cutter vows.

"I, Julchen, take you, Matthew, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

Their wrists were untied. Matthew lifted the veil from her face. When he was told to kiss her, he placed one chaste kiss on her forehead. Jules was grateful for that, but she knew what was to come.

She was left in the bridal suite first to mentally prepare herself. Jules had all the preparation she needed. The knife she kept strapped to her thigh was easily accessible. She laid in wait for her husband.

Matthew was pushed into the suite and the door was shut behind him. When he saw her and the bed, he turned around and tried to open the door, but it was no use.

"I don't understand what's happening," he said. He was laughing nervously.

"Oh, I think you know," Jules sad, not trying to hide her anger. "The last part of the ceremony. This is our wedding night. We're trapped here 'til morning."

"God..." He said under his breath. He took a step.

"Don't you step any closer," Jules whipped out her knife. "If you think we're consummating this, you're dead wrong."

"No! God, no! I barely even know you! We're not married in my country, remember?"

"That's right. And I also know in other countries that saving yourself until marraige is bullshit. I'm not naïve."

"That's true, but I wouldn't do that to you, Jules."

"I have no idea what you would and wouldn't do. You started off by lying to me. If I knew you were a real prince... Was this your plan all along? Try to warm me up before forcing me into marraige?"

"I am as forced into this as you are! Do you really think I wanted to marry you?" He raised his voice.

Matthew held his hands up and calmed down. "That's not what I meant. Forgive me. A lot has happened today." He sank to the floor, keeping his back against the wall. He pressed his hands into his face.

Jules sat on the bed, making a light, jangling noise. "Explain something to me. Why would the king force you to parade around as your brother?"

"Twins are considered bad omens. They often come into this world with blood on their hands, killing their mother. There's a saying that 'the devil brings a spare.' In order to hide the fact that Alfred as born a twin, they made it appear as if we were the same person. I didn't know my real name until we were seven."

Jules scoffed. "That's absurd." Twins were considered blessings in Deutrussia. Any healthy child was considered a blessing.

"I'm not denying that. I played the part as Alfred's body double. It was like a game at first when we were kids. But as I got older, I knew this wasn't the life I wanted. My father promised me I could leave when Alfred was more stable a person, but now..."

Jules swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Look, if..."

"What is that noise?" Matthew interrupted her.

"I don't ask you about your underwear, you don't ask me about mine," Jules told him defensively.

"Are you wearing a chastity belt?" he asked, horror tingeing his voice.

"No!" Jules could feel her face turning bright red. "I'm wearing chain mail."

Matthew looked at her in confusion and then started laughing hysterically. "Did you think I was going to attack you? Is exchanging blades part of Deutrussian seduction? I should have been the one wearing chain mail."

"Ha, ha, leave me alone." She curled up on the bed, jingling with every movement.

Matthew calmed down and sighed. "As much as I didn't want this to happen like this, I do hope that we can still be pleasant to each other. Like you said, I don't exactly have many friends, and now I have even fewer."

Jules felt that sympathetic pain again. She realized that on top of getting thrown into this, he had also lost his brother. But she was not going to let herself feel anymore tonight. She was exhausted.

"I'm not sharing the bed with you," she said.

"That's fine. Can I at least have a pillow?"

She threw one of the feather pillows at his face. "Your highness."

Jules knew her anger was petty and misdirected. She knew Matthew probably had nothing to do with the situation they found themselves in. But she didn't feel like apologizing, especially since he lied, and the very existence of the lie left her trapped again. Her only escape was sleep. She hoped that at least might show her a way to get out of this mess.


	3. A Reluctant Journey

Jules awoke early the next morning. The door to the bridal suite was unlocked and swung open. It hit Matthew who had settled for the night somewhere near the door. He grunted from the impact.

Jules was unaccustomed to someone waking her up. Her instinct was to grab the knife and point it at the door.

"Whoa..." the guards took cover, leaving only the King of Ameranda in sight. He looked to the guards in slight irritation. "If I had known Deutrussian soldiers were so skittish..."

"Deutrussian soldiers fight with their heads. They know better than to make an enemy of me," Jules said, still tired. She put away her knife and pulled her skirts back into place.

The King looked down at his son. "I imagine your night was enjoyable."

"About as enjoyable as two people who forced together unwillingly after personal tragedies can get," Matthew mumbled as he rubbed his back. He sat up. His blond mop of hair was sticking up in strange places.

Jules smirked. She had to fight hard to remember that she was still mad at him. She slid off the bed and made her way to the door, stepping over the prince's legs.

"We're leaving for Ameranda right away," the king told her. "There's a lot to get in order."

"I understand, your majesty," Jules said. "Please allow me to gather a few personal belongings before I'm exiled from my home."

She made her way to her chambers unaccompanied. She changed out of her wedding dress into a dark blue gown. As she looked around her room, she tried to find something worth taking. Anything practical had already been packed away. The memories left were too strong and sad to process for her. This had been her place of solitude and comfort for her whole life. She couldn't just pick and choose what parts of her to bring to Ameranda.

"Princess..."

Jules turned around to see Matthew standing in her doorway. He had cleaned up and gotten his hair under control. She quickly rubbed the tears from her eyes. "What do you want?"

"It's a long journey to Ameranda, " he said. He looked guilty as if he knew interrupting her wasn't the right thing to do.

Jules rolled her eyes. She didn't have the patience for timid men. She didn't really care for having to be fetched either. She left her room without taking a single thing.

"I was told King Ludwig had to tend to some affairs this morning and won't be able to see us off." Matthew kept up with her. "I'm sure we could interrupt for you to say goodbye."

"Don't bother," Jules said, dismissing his suggestion.

Matthew grabbed her wrist. "Trust me. You don't want to leave before saying goodbye. He's your brother."

Jules knew he spoke from his experience. "My brother and I already said our goodbyes at the wedding," she said coldly. "I appreciate your concern, but don't equate your relationship with your brother to mine."

He let go of her as if he had been burned. Matthew let her walk alone, leaving a few paces between them. When Jules came across the train of carriages, she frowned. Some of them, the Deutrussian ones, she recognized, but they were overly laden with trunks of her life. The Amerandan carriages looked far too ornate for travel. They were red and embellished with gold trim. She could hardly believe that they had made the long trek to Deutrussia.

"It's a wonder that you weren't robbed on your way over here," she said.

"That's what the guards are for, dear," the king said. Indeed, there were quite a lot of people packing up the carriages and horses.

Jules frowned deeper as the king climbed into the largest carriage. Matthew approached it next, pausing near the door and looking back at her.

"So, do I get a horse or..." she started.

"No need to be shy. You'll be in the main carriage with us," the King said.

Jules closed her eyes and inhaled. One of the things she hated most about being royal was behaving, and now she was going to be closed in a confined space with two of the people who ruined her life. She didn't care that it was her husband and father-in-law. She had to keep reminding herself that this was for the sake of Deutrussia.

So, she took Matthew's hand as she climbed inside. She sat down across from the king and leaned begrudgingly into the corner. Matthew entered next and sat down beside her rather than next to his father.

The first few hours were filled with uncomfortable silence. The longer no one talked, the longer Jules stewed. The king was gazing out the window while Matthew was struggling not to make eye contact with anyone.

"Look, I get why you screwed me over," Jules said, finally breaking the silence. "You don't know me, just my pedigree. But your own son..."

Matthew looked up, shocked and slightly panicked. It appeared he had thought she was talking to him and not about him.

"You've treated him more like a puppet. You can't just switch one son out for the other because of convenience. How do you expect someone who's just been pretending to be someone else his entire life to be a good king?"

Jules was fully aware that she had crossed the line. No one was supposed to speak to kings that way, but she needed him to understand the terrible situation he had put them all in even if she needed to be terrible herself.

"Despite what you may think, Princess Julchen, I do not consider my sons to be interchangeable," the king answered. "Matthew will make a good king because he's shared all of the same training and experiences as Alfred. Matthew will make a great king because he has grown up with humility, sacrifice, and disappointment. Would I have wanted this for him? No, I would much rather have had raised both of my sons openly. I would much rather have both of my sons here, healthy, and safe. I know in Deutrussia, kings are expected to bear the responsibility of ruling on their own, but in Ameranda, kings rely on the support of their queens to rule with them. Not all princesses are worthy of the position. I would be less concerned about my son's worthiness and focus more on your own."

Jules balled up her fists. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean? You're the one who chose me! You're the only one who had a choice in any of this!"

Matthew covered her first with his hand gently and pressed it into the cushions. "Father, both Julchen and I are understandably upset and haven't had a lot of time to process these sudden changes. Please forgive the outburst. By the time we reach Ameranda, we'll be both be better prepared to accept our new positions."

Jules glared at her husband. He looked back at her, insistent but gentle. She pulled her hand away from his and crossed her arms.

* * *

The procession stopped early to get set up for the evening. They were still in Deutrussia. It would probably still be another day or two before they reached the border. After that, they still had to cross Provenaris to get to Ameranda. At the rate they were going, it would take close to two weeks for them to reach the capital of Ameranda.

While camp was being set up by the Amerandan servants, Jules approached the prince.

"Prince Matthew, could I talk to you alone?" she asked.

Matthew looked around, taking into account several curious faces. Some of them were starting to whisper already. "Let's go for a walk," he agreed. He waved off the guards that offered their protection.

They went quite deep into the woods before Matthew said something before Jules had the chance to go off.

"Julchen, I know what you're going to say. I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate you trying to stick up for me. There were times that you were echoing what I wanted to say as well, but that's not the way to approach our issues."

"Oh, so you're just going to let him walk all over you? That might be fine for you, but like it or not, we're attached. The way they treat you is going to be like the way they treat me, and I've got way too much self-respect to let my husband get whipped around," Jules said.

"I'm not your husband..." Matthew said, shaking his head. "We aren't married yet."

"I don't care what sort of vetting process your country has. If we can't get married until I'm 'worthy' by your country's definition, we may never get married. That doesn't change the fact that I can't go home."

"Julchen, I'm sorry about that, but I can't do anything about that right now. Yelling is not going to make it better."

"But aren't you mad?!" Jules yelled anyway. "Aren't you mad that he made those decisions about your life? That he broke his promises? That even when you thought you had at least a little freedom, you're just in the same trap you've dreaded your entire life?"

"Of course I am!" Matthew said. "But getting mad and blowing up at my father is not going to change anything. Don't equate your relationship with your father to mine."

Jules felt the cold words come back to slap her. She wasn't particularly proud of the way she acted back at the castle, but she felt her emotions and actions were justified.

"At this point, we won't have much leeway with him, especially since our marriage in Deutrussia finalized the treaty. We're heading towards something worse than an unwanted marriage. The people of Ameranda don't know they've lost a prince. I will be a reminder that they've been lied to for my entire life. On top of that, we're bringing in foreigners to help with our affairs. I'd at least like your support on that."

For once, Jules kept her mouth shut. She had been so focused on what she had lost, she hadn't even begun to address the mess she was being brought into. She needed time to come up with a strategy to fulfill the other part of the treaty.

"I know you don't like me right now and hold part of the blame on me. I hope at some point our relationship can move beyond that and work together, even if not as husband and wife," Matthew said.

A working relationship is all they would have if Jules had any say in it. "Well, it'd help if you stopped calling me Julchen. I told you, it's Jules."

"I... I didn't know if that was appropriate anymore," Matthew admitted.

"Julchen is more of a title than a name. It's only used in official business. Jules is my name. Always has been."

"Jules," Matthew said softly as if he was getting reacquainted with her. "I swear to you, I didn't want it to happen like this."

"Obviously, it doesn't matter what we wanted," Jules said. "We just have to cope with this unfortunate situation in a way that will be a little less unpleasant."

"Ouch," Matthew said under his breath.

"What?" Jules inquired.

"Nothing, just my pride," Matthew said and started walking back to camp.

Jules scoffed. "Your pride is hurt because I don't want to be forced to marry someone who also doesn't want to marry me?"

"No, but I have never once considered you unpleasant."

"Stop lying. Not even when I pulled a knife on you and made you sleep on the floor?"

"Not even when you walked down the aisle dressed like a ghost."

"Shut up. That was a traditional Deutrussian wedding gown. You can't insult your bride like that," she bickered with him.

"It was more of an observation than an insult. Besides, you aren't my bride," Matthew commented.

"If you say that one more time..."

* * *

Night broke just as Jules and Matthew got back to camp. Fires were lit and voices whispered behind the flames. Jules thought about what sort of rumors were circulating. Appearances often meant more in their world than the truth.

Matthew went quiet, quieter than he was around Jules at least, and excused himself. He retired to his tent early in the evening. The king wished her goodnight, shortly after dinner, leaving Jules among the servants.

She approached some off-duty guards and couldn't help but overhear their conversation. "I can't believe it. All this time there's been two Alfred's."

"I knew that little shit had more ego than one person could handle."

"Still, it's a shame the real one had to go like that. Those rebels probably loved taking revenge on a royal."

"I heard he was there in disguise. Otherwise, they probably would have killed him on sight."

"Sometimes, I almost wish I could take revenge on a royal myself. Look how much stuff they lug around and they can't give me a raise..."

"Probably because they don't pay their guards to gossip," Jules interrupted. "But I don't know how they run things in Ameranda. If I was running the military, you can bet there would be no talk of revenge on the royal family, even if they were off duty."

The guards shifted around uncomfortably.

Jules nodded to the one who talked about revenge. "You, what's your name?"

"Sir Jeffrey, your highness."

"Sir Jeffrey, lend me your sword."

He gripped it tight. "What do you mean to do with it, your highness?"

"It just so happens that because of Amerandan interference, I have now gone two days without swords practice. I like to keep my skills sharp."

"I don't know..."

"If you do as I say, and continue to do as I say, I'll forget about the insubordination I heard tonight. If not, I'm afraid I'll just have to remember."

Jeffrey quickly unclipped his belt and handed it to the princess.

Jules smiled. "I'm glad we were able to come to an understanding. I'll be sure to return this to you shortly."

After that, the camp was surprisingly quiet as everyone went to sleep, save for a few lookouts and the princess. She practiced swinging the sword, pretending the trees were her opponents, stopping just short of the bark to save the blade. She went on until her muscles were warm and exerted.

When she went back to camp, it didn't take her long to return the sword, find her tent, and fall asleep.


	4. The Stranger and the Refugee

Natalia tied back her long hair for another long day of work. It was far too easy for her gray-blonde hair to fall into her eyes. It was hard to tell what time of day it was. The sky was overcast, with columns of smoke in the not-so-distant horizon. Her frame was delicate but strong in surprising ways, making her ideal for covert dealings.

Some would say she had been born into chaos. She was from a world of political intrigue where successions and birthrights were more important than lives. She had learned to be a tool who could choose her master, someone she would serve and be devoted to her whole life. It wasn't love, but it was as close as someone like her could get.

The chaos she found herself in now was different, but she was slowly adapting. Death had lost its impact on her long ago. She had seen so many die. She had even caused some deaths. But death here was brutal and painful. Very different from assassinations she had experienced. She wanted very much to leave Cheronava and go back home.

But her mission was not complete. The fighting had recently intensified following the arrival of the prince of Ameranda. His secret arrival had been information dearly fought for. However, the information had gone dry. There were rumors that he died or gone back home, but that wasn't good enough for her master without proof. She had to get closer to the Amerandan camp.

For the moment, she had stationed herself at a refugee camp, tending to those who had come from the battlefront. These people didn't have sides. The struggle between the colonists of Cheronava and the Amerandans meant very little to them. Their focus was to stay alive. She needed to gain their trust if she was going to get anywhere.

Natalia was not so skilled in the healing arts, but she did what she could by doing chores and odd jobs. At the moment, that meant doing laundry. The water was near boiling, but it was a pain she needed to endure.

"Talia!" One of the nurses called to her. "Come here! You are needed."

Natalia rushed to get the bandages to the line to dry. A couple of them fell into the mud, but she would deal with them later.

She followed the nurse into one of the healing tents. Screams weren't an unusual thing to hear here, but there was one voice she recognized purely from how loud it was. One boy had survived a particularly nasty battle. He had been found by the refugees and brought here. It was amazing he had lived this long. He was in and out of consciousness. When he was conscious, he was delirious, screaming relentlessly. None of the other refugees seemed to fight for life quite as he did.

Several of the aides held him down to keep him from thrashing and tearing off his bandages. Natalia was pleased by the sight. He was getting stronger.

He was pretty beat up in general, but his eyes had taken the worst damage. He had a long, slow recovery if he ever wanted to use them again. For that, it was imperative to keep his bandages in place.

"Talia, would you calm him?"

Natalia knelt by the bedside of the screaming boy. She felt a strange pity for him. He was scared and alone. No one had any clue who he was or where he came from. She brought her lips close to his ear. The only remedy for his screams was her quiet voice.

She sang just for him to hear. A light, airy belasomian lullaby she had been taught long ago.

It took a few minutes for him to actually listen to her. Once he did, he quieted, falling back asleep, too tired after using all of his energy.

"I don't know how you do it," the nurse said. "You're the only one who can calm him down when he gets like this. He must have a crush on you."

While the others went off to tend to the other patients, Natalia stayed with the boy a little longer. In fairness, he was probably too old to be called a boy. His hair was straw colored and damp with sweat. Stubble had accumulated on his jaw, giving off a golden sheen, but his cheeks still had the softness of youth. He was tall and well built. He had probably been too eager to join the fighting, like many of the young men who had lost their lives in the battlefield.

"You're so stupid," she said softly, gently pushing the hair off his forehead. "First you run into battle, and now you take a liking to me. You must love to get hurt."

He seemed to lean his face into her palm, unconscious of the affection he was giving her. As much as it went against her instinct, she did find the boy to be cute. As cute as a wounded, bedbound, unconscious person could be. He was more like a kitten than a person.

She patted his cheek. "I'll be back. Don't cause any more trouble."

So, she went back to her laundry. She put the kettle back on the fire. More hot water was needed if she was going to start over.

* * *

That night, she was awoken by that same screaming, louder than she had ever heard it. She threw off her sheets and quickly tied an overcoat around her. She ran to the healing tent to find the boy up on his feet, wielding a brace like a weapon. He was fumbling around and thrashing out violently. No one could get close enough to subdue him.

"Where am I?" he yelled, but wouldn't allow anyone to answer. "WHAT HAPPENED TO MY EYES? WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?"

Natalia's footsteps were soft, she gave him a wide berth as she snuck up behind him. She waited patiently for the right moment then climbed on his back and held her forearm on his neck. She tightened her hold until he sank down to his knees.

"Talia!" The head nurse exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

Natalia got off and let the boy gasp for air. "He was combative. I was just trying to subdue him."

"Oh god, is this Belasom?" he rasped out.

Natalia narrowed her eyes. She might have to be careful around this one.

"No, my child. This is Cheronava. You're in a refugee camp. You were rescued from the battlefront and we've been healing you. My name is Nurse Willow. What is your name?"

The boy seemed to slowly process as he regained breathing. "I...don't remember."

"That's alright. It may be a blessing that you have forgotten some things for now."

"My eyes!?" he asked, urgently.

"They were badly injured in the battle. We have been doing our best while you've been asleep. Eyes are often the slowest to heal, and time will tell how much you'll recover."

He seemed much calmer. "How long have I been here?"

"Two weeks," Natalia answered.

He twisted his head towards her. "Who are you?"

"That is Talia. She's been helping me look after you a great help in getting you to sleep."

"I don't want to sleep for that long," he said rubbing his neck. "Ah! Everything hurts!"

"It's still too soon for you to be getting out of bed. Lay back down, and we'll get you some food and water."

The boy felt around in front of him, unsure. "I don't know how to get back." There was still a bit of panic in his voice.

"Talia, help him up."

Natalia stood in front of him and held his hands in hers. They were a bit larger than she expected closed gingerly around her palms. She noticed through some of his bandages that some of his wounds were starting to open up again. It was almost impressive, and concerning, that he was able to move around as much as he did. She helped him up and brought him back to his bed.

"I guess I should thank you for helping but was strangling me really necessary?" he asked as he laid down on the cot.

"I couldn't let you hurt yourself or the others. So yes. I knew what I was doing," she explained.

"I'm sure you did," he huffed. "You don't seem like a nurse. What are you doing here?"

Natalia glared at him. He was asking too many questions. "I'm a refugee. I would worry less about what I'm doing here and focus more on yourself."

She shifted him around, propping him up with his pillows. He winced.

"Talia, could you feed him? I've got others that need caring," a nurse handed her a bowl of soup and water.

"But..."

"Please? I'll owe you one." She left before Natalia could protest. Much to Natalia's chagrin, favors were the best currency in Cheronava. She sat down on the edge of the boy's bed.

"I can feed myself," he said as he attempted to sit up.

"No, you can't," Natalia said as she pushed him back. "You've moved too much already. You're never going to recover if you keep reopening your wounds," she chastised him.

"But..." She pressed the bowl against his lips. She poured the broth into his mouth slowly, giving him time to swallow. He ate the soup eagerly, his hunger coming to the forefront. She took the bowl away and let him sip the water. He drank that quickly as well.

"Is there more? I'm still hungry," he said.

"You can't eat anymore," she said, placing the dishes aside. "You haven't had real food in a long time. Your stomach needs to recover." Her own stomach twisted from experience.

"Come on. I can handle it." He gave her a smile. It was one of those smiles that more dangerous than it appeared. He was the kind of person that wielded it relentlessly and unassuming. Natalia knew he must use it to get his way and that it probably worked. Even her heart wasn't totally unaffected. She could feel her breath start to catch.

"Stupid," she said, pushing his head back. Her fingers caught in his hair out of habit. His smile melted, lips parting in protest and surprise. She tapped his cheek twice, reminding herself that he wasn't some helpless kitten. He was a bit annoying and way too curious.

"Go to sleep. It'll help," she said, getting up from his bed.

"I don't want to sleep," he grumbled, obviously not used to not getting his way.

"Don't forget I can make you sleep," she said with a smile of her own.

"God, no." He settled into his sheets, turning away from her.

"Good night," she said sweetly with a hint of a playful threat.

She left to go back to her tent. It would only be a few more hours until the dawn came. Once the day broke, there would be more work to do. She couldn't let herself be distracted by that boy anymore.


	5. A Wannabe Runaway

Jules stared mindlessly out the window. They had crossed the Amerandan border just hours ago. Everyone was weary from the road, so it was good in that sense that they would reach the capital soon.

She frowned as the trees passed them by.

"What are you thinking about?" Matthew asked her, his voice raspy. He was looking up from her lap. He had fallen asleep some time ago. It was just nodding off at first, but his head had fallen to her shoulder. That irritated Jules a bit too much. She didn't like her arms to be weighed down. She decided the best option would be to move his head to her lap since moving him more would be too cumbersome.

It was hard to say if they had gotten closer on the road. Anytime she was not in the carriage, Jules did her best to avoid him. It was a little harder to maintain a hostile environment when they were close. He tried polite conversation every once in a while. She responded sometimes.

"The trees here are weird," she said.

"How so?"

"They're small. Tame. The forests in Deutrussia are wilder than this. I can't imagine anyone getting lost here."

"Are you planning to run off and get lost in the woods?" Matthew asked. Jules looked at him. "I wouldn't blame you." He still had that sleepy look in his eyes.

"Not at the moment," she answered. She flicked him on the forehead. "You owe me."

Matthew rubbed at the site. "Owe you what?"

"A favor. I let you use my lap as a pillow."

"Sorry," he said as he sat up, blushing slightly. "What sort of favor?"

"Let me ride your horse," Jules insisted. Matthew frowned. "I've been stuck inside the carriage this whole time. It's not fair that you and your father ride outside occasionally and I can't."

"It's not that. It's just my horse barely even likes me. He's not even really my horse. He's..." Matthew couldn't bring himself to say his brother's name. He seemed to be in the habit of shutting down when it came to grief.

"I've never met a horse I couldn't ride," Jules said, looking out the window again.

There was silence while Matthew thought. "We'll get you a horse when we get to the palace. You can have your pick."

"That's really not going to help me in the meantime." She turned to look at him again, sensing she was close.

He was looking at her helplessly. Why, Jules couldn't figure out. "I'll let you ride him on condition, but you're not going to like it."

Matthew held the horse as Jules mounted. The entourage was taking a break. Prince Alfred's horse was a beautiful dun stallion and didn't seem all too thrilled he wasn't getting a break. She climbed up and sat with her legs to the side, finding the horse's balance. She gripped the awkward saddlehorn between her thighs. Matthew held the reigns and mounted behind her. Jules could feel the length of his body pressing against her back.

"He's really not going to like this," Matthew said.

Nobody really seemed happy about the situation, but that was the compromise. The horse least of all. He shook his head in protest at Matthew's timid commands and then reluctantly walked at a slow pace.

Jules frowned. "Is this really necessary?"

"No." Matt shifted his position. His arms framed either side of her as he maintained control of the reins. As much as Jules hated it, that feeling in itself wasn't terrible. Just terribly awkward. "But we've been over this. I'm not going to let you ride him for the first time on your own. It's not that I don't trust you. I just don't trust the horse."

Jules huffed. "Well, it's no wonder that he doesn't like you." she leaned back and hit his shoulder with her head. "You trust a stranger more than you trust your own horse. I bet you've known him his whole life, and here you are anchoring him down with some floozy you just met."

"I would never call you a floozy," Matthew defended.

"Oh not you, the horse. The horse thinks I'm a floozy. You're pressing against me like I'm a mare in heat."

Matthew had the good decency to flush bright red. "I uh..."

There was a loud snap. A misaimed practice arrow landed in a trunk not too far from their heads. The stallion reared. Matthew, already taken by surprise, started slipping. He lost his grip on the reins as well as the horse. He fell and the horse took off.

Jules felt her heart race for the first time in too long. Her first grabbed hold of the horse's dark brown mane. She rolled with his stride and ducked to avoid hitting low hanging branches as the stallion galloped through the forest. She got used to the rhythm quickly, enjoying the run he was taking her on. She heard her name being called and laughed.

The trees started to thin as the horse ran up the hill. She grabbed hold of the reins as they slapped against his neck. She pulled back and said "whoa," on a low, calm voice. He slowed and eventually stopped, giving Jules a breathtaking view of the Amerandian valley. A river cut effortlessly through the hills, carving its way through the rolling land. The sun gleamed beautifully off the water, giving life to the picturesque view. It was so beautiful and bright it hardly seemed real.

"Jules..." The prince gasped out as he finally caught up. He had hopped on a different horse in order to catch up. Several others followed on horse and foot in an attempt to rescue the princess. "Are you alright?" He slid off his horse, intentionally this time, and landed gracefully on the ground.

"A bit more than alright," the princess said with a grin. "I was just getting to know this big ole scardey cat. Can't get rid of me that easy. I've been on the back of warhorses since I could sit upright." She gave the horse's neck a good pat. "Good boy."

Matthew grabbed the stallion's reins and held the horses face to his. "Spirit was just being ornery. Good boys don't buck their riders," he said sternly.

Jules snickered. She was glad this horse wasn't a good boy. Good boys weren't adventurous. Good boys followed the rules. Good boys fell in line and stayed quiet when it came to the unexpected. But good boys could be considerate at times, trying to make the best out of unfortunate situations.

Matthew's eyes caught the light. He looked out onto the valley.

"You see that river?" he indicated to the scenery. "If you follow it to just behind that hill, that's where the capital is. That's home."

A stone sank in Jules' stomach. This was beautiful, but this wasn't home to her.

"We're so close," Jules said out loud. "We've gone too far," she kept internally.

"I know this is nothing like Deutrussia," Matt said. "But I do hope you can find some happiness here."

She smiled at him, but she only half meant it.

The servants had gone back when they had seemed both princess and horse were safe. It was almost as if they had grown accustomed to leaving the two of them alone in the woods.

"I don't think I can do that, Matthew," Princess Jules confessed. "I can't be happy without my heart, and I left that behind. My duty may be here and with you, but my heart is not."

She studied Matthew's face carefully. He didn't look surprised. He hid his hurt well behind the kindness in his face.

"Then, I hope that I don't bring you to any more misery."

That made Jules feel worse. She didn't know why she found herself saying these things to him. She found herself being too honest around him. A proper princess didn't burden her husband with feelings. Nor future queens.

"Forget I sad anything," Jules said. "Let's just go back."

Matthew remounted his borrowed horse. "Whatever you wish."


	6. An Unfashionable Impression

The closer they got to the city, the further Matthew sunk into his seat. They had passed by a few towns on their way to the capital. Jules was studying the layout. Whenever the citizens of Ameranda saw her, they looked surprised and then quickly looked away. She doubted any of them actually knew who she was.

"Julchen, dear, it's probably best if you draw the curtain now."

"As you wish, your majesty." Jules flicked the curtain, darkening the already grim mood. "As if the royal entourage is less of a spectacle than seeing some nameless face through a tiny window."

Matthew hid his face from his father and betrothed, but Jules guessed he found some humor in that.

"Do you not wish your people to know that the crown prince is courting a Deutrussian to be their next queen? I would think there's a lot your people need to know."

"Amerandian's know who you are, Princess Julchen," the king said, and left it at that. Jules waited for elaboration.

After another awkward silence, she continued. "Well, what about him? Do they know about him yet?" Jules indicated to her husband-finacé sitting beside her.

The king cleared his throat. "We'll make the announcement of Alfred's disappearance tonight. After that, we'll announce your engagement."

"Marriage," Jules huffed unhappily under her breath.

"The queen will greet us at the palace. She'll be the one overseeing your preparation, Julchen."

"Oh no," Matthew groaned so quietly, Jules could barely make out the words. She studied her husband. She guessed the anxiety was getting to him.

Eventually, they did get to the palace. One of the footmen opened the door. The sunlight hurt Jules' eyes. The king exited first, followed by his son. Matthew hesitated a moment and held his hand out for Jules. She rolled her eyes and took it.

When she exited the carraige, she was greeted by the sight of an ornately large castle and bright blue skys. She could smell salt water and freshly trimmed grass. It was so much to take in, she was almost glad she had a hand to hold onto. She gave it a squeeze to try to anchor herself to something that was real. She felt a gentle pressure back.

The front doors of the palace opened. The queen of Ameranda stood in the doorway. Her golden blonde hair was braided and styled ornately on top of her head, and she was dressed in the finest black silks. She descended the stairs and went straight into the arms of the king.

Princess Jules wasn't quite sure where to look. It was pretty shocking for royalty to have that much affection, let alone show it. She loosened her grip on Matthew's hand, and he set it free.

As the queen left the embrace of her king, she went to Matthew next, "Oh my darling son," she said as she wrapped him up in a hug. Jules took a moment to study her closely. In the carriage, Matthew seemed to be dreading something about her, but to Jules, she seemed like any noble lady. Granted, she was the mother of Alfred. And Matthew. Jules had to wonder what kind of queen would keep one of her sons a secret for over twenty years.

"I'm so glad you've come back home safe. Did you enjoy your time in Deutrussia?" she asked.

"Yes, mother," Matthew answered.

It was Jules turn next. The queen turned to her. "Princess Julchen, it's so lovely to meet you."

"Likewise, your majesty," Jules said with an awkward curtsy.

"I know Ameranda seems like a long ways from home for you. Just know I will do all that I can to make your stay here as pleasant as possible given the circumstances."

Jules bristled. She may have been rusty when it came to courtesan conversation, but the queen hadn't exactly been subtle.

Jules hooked her elbow around the prince's arm.

"You must excuse me, princess. I'm afraid there is a lot to get in order, so I'll leave further introductions to tomorrow. Plus, I'm sure you're exhausted from your journey. I'll see you later this evening then."

"As you wish, your majesty," Jules said. "I'd like some time to get adjusted as well. Matthew promised to give me a tour, so I'm sure my afternoon will be adequately occupied."

The tension weighed heavily in the air, but Jules wasn't going to break.

"Very well. Don't keep the prince too long," she said with a gentle smile. "I'm sure he would like some time to prepare for tonight."

The queen nodded in our direction, then walked with the king into the castle.

"Does your mother know that we're married?" Jules kept her husband back.

Matthew sighed. "Yes. She would have gotten word by now. And the fact that you're here now means we've begun our engagement. Please excuse her. She's always been protective of me."

Protective wasn't the word Jules would have used.

"Also," he said in a quieter voice. "You may not want to call me Matthew quite yet. Not everyone here knows I'm not Alfred."

Jules looked at him firmly. "This is getting ridiculous. Wouldn't you rather me call you Matthew?"

"Y-yes?" he hesitated.

"Then, I'm calling you by your actual name. They'll all have to find out eventually."

She turned around and saw the servants unloading the many carriages. She frowned as she saw them taking her stuff.

"So, Prince Matthew, are you going to show me around or what?" Jules demanded.

Matthew had a flushed look on his face and then snapped back to reality. "Oh, you were serious about that? I thought... Are you sure you want me to do it and not someone else?"

"You are quite literally the only person I know here. I need to know the layout. Plus, I'm willing to bet you want to stretch your legs as much as I do. Outside first. We can walk the perimeter while the light is still good."

The pair of them circumnavigated the castle as best they could. Matthew deemed some areas to difficult to walk around given the sheer cliff face off one end of the castle. He pointed out various structures with fondness, drawing some connections Jules doubted she would ever understand. She made note of the castles defenses and the training grounds, but that was all she needed to know for now.

"Not that I wouldn't like to give you the tour of the inside of the castle, but I do have preparations to make," Prince Matthew said as they stopped by the main entrance. "So, I'm afraid this is where I leave you."

Jules laughed to herself. "As if you hadn't had enough of me already."

"Never," Matthew said with a smirk and a tired sigh. "I'm sure my mother will keep you busy enough, but if you..."

"If I what?" Jules questioned.

"If you...feel overwhelmed or homesick and need someone to talk to... I can be there for you." He looked nervous.

Jules exhaled and gave her husband a reassuring smile. "I doubt it, but thanks for the offer."

He gave her hand a squeeze and hesitated in letting it go. He studied her closely as he raised her hand up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand.

Jules accidentally locked eyes with him and quickly looked up to the roof of the castle, busying herself by further studying the architecture.

"I'll see you tonight, then," he said. He walked up to the threshold and disappeared into the castle.

Jules took a breath to steel her nerves, as if conquering the threshold required some sort of strength. Unlike the prince, she didn't have the privilege of disappearing. There was a swarm of maids waiting for her to help her "prepare." Preparation, of course, meant cramming every little piece of information about the castle, the country, the etiquette and customs, all while escorting Jules to her chambers to get cleaned and dressed for the announcement. She was nearly helpless as she watched the servants go through her things, gauging the appropriateness of her attire. She nearly had to threaten a maid with her knife to keep the chain mail on her body. But all the hustle came to a somber halt when Jules saw the dress they had chosen for her.

"Not that one," Jules said, crossing her arms over her chest, pressing the cold steel of the chain mail into her skin.

"But your highness, the whole court will be in mourning," the maid said, insisting on keeping the black dress held up. "This is the only dress suitable..."

"Pretend like it was never packed. Stow it away with all of my other clothes," Jules insisted. "I'm not wearing it again."

They eventually did listen to her and settled for the dark blue dress she had worn when she had left Deutrussia. In the process, they took her measurements, saying something about fitting her into clothes more fashionable.

* * *

When it was time for the announcement, Jules found she was the first of the royals to arrive. Jules supposed that the stereotypes about Deutrussians were true. They were nothing if not punctual. Her brother was even worse. He often arrived for meetings an hour ahead of time. She imagined he'd be even worse now that he was king. She vaguely wondered how he would deal with his neurosis without her there.

"My, my, Princess Julchen. And here I thought princesses nowadays always showed up fashionably late." The Queen arrived next with her ladies in waiting. "How refreshing."

Jules got the impression that the queen was commenting that she was neither late nor fashionable. Luckily, neither of those descriptors bothered her. "I'm glad you appreciate it, your majesty."

The implication was doubled as the queen looked the princess over carefully. "I trust your clothes and belongings made the journey unharmed."

Jules plastered on a less than polite grin. "Yes, of course. Luckily, I was never very fashionable to begin with, so I didn't have to fret over choosing an outfit."

"It's a shame you lost your mother so young then." The queen's point was made as she opened a fan with a snap. "If I recall, Queen Franziska always wore the most beautiful gowns. I always admired how she wore the Deutrussian simplicity with such grace."

Jules hadn't been expecting the mention of her mother. She had no comeback. She hadn't known her mother or her fashion sense very well.

"Good evening, ladies." The king and prince arrived together. Matthew looked dashing as a prince should. He had traded his blue suit for a black one. He was also very observant, seemingly able to notice the tense environment between his bride and his mother.

"You look lovely, Jules," the prince said, obviously trying to undo the unknown damage his mother had caused.

"Thank you, Matthew," Jules said pointedly.

"Matthew, dear, come here," the queen insisted. Matthew reluctantly went to his mother to be coddled. She smoothed out his shoulder seams. "You have absolutely nothing to be worried about. Have you memorized the speech I wrote out for you?"

"Yes, but..."

"Good. Remember, confidence is the most important factor. Just be yourself, and you'll be fine."

Jules snickered a little too loudly. The queen gave her a most refined glare while Matthew looked back at her with bemused curiosity.

"Princess Julchen, if you please. We are announcing the disappearance of our son. This is a somber occasion."

"My apologies, your majesty. It just seems contradictory for him to be himself through a speech you wrote for him. Even moreso if you consider that he hasn't even been allowed to be himself until now." Her message was loud and clear. She was not backing down no matter how much the queen tried to shame her.

"I appreciate your efforts mother, but I've already considered what I would like to say," Matthew said.

"Good then," said the king, linking his elbow around his wife's. He seemed to be immune to Jules' little outbursts by now. The queen shook off any emotion Jules had riled up. Her face went stoic as she headed towards the balcony.

"Are you trying to get on my mother's bad side?" Matthew asked, his voice soft in Jules' ear.

"I was on her bad side before I even got here." Jules said. The king and queen made their way outside, the crowd below already cheering.

"As much as I delight from your quips, please restrain yourself around my mother."

"I will do no such thing." Though it did make her happy that Matthew at the very least got amusement from her commentary. "Someone's got to say something."

"I just think you'll have an easier time in Ameranda if you try to get along with her."

"You should know by now that I never make anything easy."

Something flickered in Matthew's eyes. Probably the hundreds of candles illuminating the evening.

The king and queen raised their arms back to indicate for Matthew to approach. He tensed. "Let's just get this over with," he sighed.

Jules squeezed his hand and nodded. Together, they walked forward to address the nation of Ameranda.


	7. The Truth and Privacy

The crowd cheered from below the balcony as they approached. Several were shouting Prince Alfred. Jules could feel Matthew stiffen beside her.

The king held up a hand, and the people hushed. "I have come before you tonight for a grave announcement. As you all know, throughout my reign I have prided myself on keeping your trust and guarding the kingdom as if all of you were my own family. Tonight, I admit that I have failed on all accounts."

The crowd murmured in a dull roar.

"Some time ago, my son Prince Alfred headed to the colonies in order to quietly resolve the conflict. He has been missing for two weeks now following a skirmish."

The roar became louder as the shock of a missing prince settled in as they stared up at a nearly identical Prince Alfred.

"The prince you see before you is not Alfred, " the king continued. "He is my second son, Matthew, Alfred's twin brother."

The uproar of hearing the news about the princes being twins was astronomical. It was as if Alfred attending the announcement as a ghost would be less of a shock than him being a twin.

"Upon hearing the news of my son's disappearance while attending the coronation of King Ludwig, I signed a treaty with Deutrussia. They will help prepare our military to take vengeance for the loss of my son. As a sign of this treaty between our great countries, Prince Matthew became engaged to Princess Julchen Marie of Deutrussia."

It was Jules' turn to stand taller. With Deutrussian pride, she kept a straight face as she listened to the people below. Their tone matched their wariness and skepticism.

"I will bear the weight of your anger and distrust. It was not Matthew's decision to keep his identity a secret. The queen and I were trying to protect him from superstition and the judgment that comes along with it. We now know it was wrong to let it go this far."

It was Matthew's turn to speak next. As he approached the edge of the balcony, it was like an Alfred switch had gone off. He put on a charming, carefree grin. "I know this all comes as a bit of a shock, but I do want you to take solace in something. This may be the first you've heard of me, but I've been acting as your prince my entire life. The 'Prince Alfred' that you all knew and loved was a collaboration between my brother and I. You have not lost him entirely, and you have not lost your future leader. Since he is gone, I will be taking up both of our roles and duties. You will have virtually no disturbance to your princely expectations, save for referring to me by Matthew instead of Alfred."

The crowd did seem to calm down after his statement.

"And as for my fiancee." Matthew turned around to grin at Jules. "Well, I have no doubt, she will be a great future queen. I'm sure you'll come to love her as much as I have."

The crowd awwed. Jules gave him an equally fake smile, thinking all the while that she wanted to kill him. Despite how much she hated this Alfred personality, she was impressed by how he was able to turn the crowd around.

"So while we have much to mourn, we will right the past wrongs and celebrate our strong future together."

All of this optimism made Jules feel sick to her stomach. The crowd actually started cheering. She couldn't believe the people of Ameranda were buying this.

The royal family made their exit on a high note. The palace remained at a hubbub for the next couple of hours, then suddenly everything seemed to go quiet. Night had been settled over the kingdom, but Princess Jules was unable to sleep. She was finding it very difficult being surrounded by four strange walls. She thought maybe she'd feel better if she got more used to the castle's interior. She wandered through the hallways aimlessly. Some well-meaning servants tried to offer her help, but she turned them all down. She felt like she had gone down every nook and cranny, and she didn't feel closer to sleep.

Eventually, she heard a strange noise. Like the castle was breathing. She knew that old buildings sometimes groaned with the wind. Not Deutrussian buildings of course. They were too well crafted and maintained. And these soft gasps sounded human.

She held her ear up to one of the walls. It sounded like crying. The kind when one is trying to be silent but the inhales give away the emotion.

Jules knew that castles had secret rooms and passages to hide servants and help royals escape, and there was definitely something inside of this wall. She pushed on every picture frame and pulled on every candlestick. She heard a grating noise and the breathing suddenly stop. She took a step back and noticed there was a new outline within the wall. She pushed on it until it rotated, revealing a lonely, sniveling prince.

He released the breath he had been holding. "Oh, it's you." He sounded almost relieved.

The room was only big enough to be a corridor really. Matthew was sitting in an alcove with a single lit candle above him.

"Why are you crying here by yourself?" Jules asked.

"I wasn't crying, " Matthew denied. "I was just reading. And my eyes have been bothering me." He rubbed at his tear-filled eyes as if to prove a point. "Are you alright? Did you need help?"

"No." Jules entered the corridor and closed the wall behind her. She noticed it was very dark and cramped. "Don't know how you'd stand reading in a place like this. Don't you have access to grand libraries and your own room?"

"It's a habit. I don't mean to be rude or anything, but if you don't need help getting back to your room or something, I'd really like to be alone, if you don't mind."

"Oh. I get it." Jules sat down beside Matthew, making both of them very uncomfortable. "But I do mind. It's pretty pathetic that my husband is crying alone in a dark secret passageway."

She glanced a peek at the book he had been reading. "The Complete Encyclopedia of Amerandan Fables: Volume 20."

"I really didn't want you to see me like this."

Matthew had not had a chance to be alone since Deutrussia. Jules knew this. She knew that he hadn't had the chance to get some privacy to properly mourn.

"Well, there's a lot of things we don't want," Jules said, crossing her arms. "But here we are. The difference is, you isolating yourself is only going to make the lonely feeling feel worse. And from the way you reacted, it was better that I found you rather than random servant or your parents. So here I am, making you feel less physically alone."

"That's really..."

"Annoying?" Jules finished for him.

"Yes," Matthew let out a pathetic laugh. "Sweet but annoying."

"I'm not trying to be sweet," Jules said.

"So just annoying then?" Matthew joked.

"Yes, cause once you're sick of me I can finally go home," Jules said.

She felt Matthew relax beside her.

"So what were you going to be if you weren't going to be Alfred's double your entire life?" Jules asked.

"I wanted to do humanitarian work. Help refugees at the border. Be far away from the castle, where no one knew what Alfred looked like."

Jules scrunched her nose. "Is there anyone in Ameranda who doesn't know what Alfred looks like?"

Matthew shrugged, defeated. "It was a dream."

"Have I mentioned how much I hate your Alfred impression? Also, if you try to use me to boost morale again, I won't play into your act."

"Noted," Matthew said.

They sat there in silence for a while. Matthew would sniffle occasionally, but never returned to the crying mess that Jules had seen when she found him. Jules started to get bored and sleepy. Her head started bobbing forward as she nodded off.

"Ready to go to sleep?" Matthew asked.

"Are you going to start crying after I leave?" she yawned.

"Maybe, " the prince said.

"Then, no. I'll stay here to annoy you a bit more." Jules was having trouble thinking as the fog of sleep flooded her mind. Her head drifted to the warm shoulder beside her. After she was out, Matthew gingerly picked her up and carried her to her room through the secret passageways.

"Matthew, " Jules mumbled in her sleep as Matthew laid her down on her bed.

"Hmm?"

"If you ever use the passageways to visit my room again, I'll kill you, she said.

"Got it."

"Good night, then, husband."

The statement gave Matthew some pause, but he left the way he came, too tired to spend any more of the night crying.


	8. Manipulation

Natalia woke in the middle of the night, sensitive to every strange sound. It was the sound of retching and liquids hitting the ground. She felt her face scrunch in silent rage. She threw her blankets off into a pile on her cot. Rather than throwing on a robe like she would if this were an emergency, she took the time to lace herself into her dress, knowing it was now too close to sunrise to go back to sleep. Still, she pushed through the flaps of her tent bitterly.

She investigated and saw a young man with bandages wrapped around his face keeled over and vomiting into a patch of grass beside her tent.

"Vanya..." she seethed menacingly.

If Vanya made a face, it was hard to tell from the nausea. "Oh God, I've already learned my lesson."

"If I told you once, I've told you a million times! Stop flirting with the nurses to get more food!" She hit him over the back of the head.

"Ow! And I told you! I'm not flirting! And you guys don't even give me enough food. What are you even doing out here, Talia? Were you following me?" he grumbled.

"You're the one who decided to lose your stomach by my tent, " she said.

"Your tent?" He swiveled his head around in reflex, but of course, he couldn't see where he was.

She sighed. "It doesn't matter. Let's just get you back to the healing tent." she hooked her elbow around his arm and pulled him up. "Don't make this more difficult than this needs to be, Vanya."

He winced this time. "Please don't call me that. It creeps me out."

"That's rich coming from the guy who can't remember his own name. You should appreciate it."

"I remember enough to know it wasn't that. But do you have to call me something so Belasomnian?"

"Yes. And that's my brother's name." She smiled to herself as he looked appropriately contrite. "But I am open to alternatives."

He hesitated for a moment. "Matthew?" hhe asked.

"No, " she said with a laugh. "That didn't even convince you."

"The nurses call me Honey. You could give that a try," he said with a smile.

"Honey?" The word stalled in her mouth with sickly sweetness. Honey was a good comparison to him. Slow. Sweet. Golden.

"Ooh, I like it when you say it, " he cooed.

She frowned immediately. "Vanya it is."

"Oh come on, Talia!"

"You still haven't told me why you came out all this way just to throw up by my tent."

That shut him up. They walked to the tent in silence. Vanya had gotten well enough to not need such critical attention. Natalia wasn't convinced that he didn't need constant supervision.

"What's your brother like?" Vanya asked as Talia finally got him to his bed.

Natalia could feel her face warm with pride. "He's strong. A natural-born leader. Stubborn. He's the kind of man who will do whatever it takes to reach his goals."

"Then, I guess I wouldn't mind being named after him, " he relented.

Natalia wasn't thinking and touched his face again. Vanya had gotten used to the habit by this point, but Natalia always felt a tinge of shame when she caught herself doing it.

"I'll bring some porridge for you a bit later. It's obvious now that I can't trust the nurses to feed you."

"Possessive much?" he beamed.

Natalia drew her hand away.

"When will you be back?" Vanya asked, a bit desperate.

"In a couple of hours." She was happy that she wasn't the only "possessive" one. "I need to get started on my chores."

* * *

When breakfast was finally being served, the area was filled with conversation, which was unusual in the somber refugee camp. She sat down by herself but close enough to eavesdrop.

"So what do you think it means? Will the fighting stop?"

"I doubt it. They can't afford to let their troops mourn. And you know it will only get worse. The king is bound to send more troops for vengeance."

If they said King, Natalia knew they must be referring to the Amerandan side. She couldn't afford to let herself get giddy. She had to be sure they were talking about Alfred and that he was actually dead before her brother was one step closer to making his dreams come to life.

"But who would have thought the prince was a twin. They say twins are curses, you know."

Natalia felt her stomach drop. The prince of Ameranda was a twin?

"Maybe that's why the fighting has gone on for so long..."

Natalia got up in a daze. What did this mean? Did she still need to be there on that God-forsaken colony? If she went home now, she'd be a failure. Ivan was no closer to his dream.

She got up to get the porridge. "Did you hear? Can you even believe the Amerandans were hiding such a thing?" the cook said, simply making morning conversation as he delved out watery porridge.

"Somewhat. When it comes to fabricating a narrative and covering up the truth, nothing Amerandans could do would surprise me. What is the name of this new prince?" Natalia asked nonchalantly.

"That I can't remember. But you should hear who he's going to marry..."

* * *

It was obvious that Natalia needed to go home. Now. Her brother would need her by his side now more than ever. He was bound to do something dangerous and stupid. She'd bring the porridge to Vanya and then make her plans to escape. She brushed through the entrance of the healing tent.

"Talia?" Vanya called out.

Natalia was a little startled hearing her name. Even though Vanya was blinded, he had developed a remarkable sense of hearing.

"How could you tell it was me?" she asked suspiciously.

"I've done that to everyone who walked in, " he said sheepishly, wringing the edge of his bedsheets. "What took you so long?"

"Were you really that hungry?" she asked, sitting on the bed beside him.

"Yes, " he huffed. "But what's going on out there?"

"Not much." Natalia kept her voice neutral. "Just a bit of news from Ameranda."

Vanya found her wrist with surprising accuracy.

"Tell me." His face went pale.

Natalia eyed him cautiously. "The prince of Ameranda got engaged."

His grip tightened. "Who...who did the prince get engaged to?"

"Princess Julchen Marie of Deutrussia."

He relaxed. He took a moment to breathe and laughed. "You've got to be joking. That can't be true. Prince Alfred and Princess Julchen can't stand each other."

"Perhaps they do. But I'm not talking about Prince Alfred."

"D-did I get the name wrong?"

"Prince Alfred is missing. Ameranda is presuming him dead and blaming the rebel colonists. Apparently, he had a secret twin brother who has assumed the role of crown prince and guaranteed an alliance with Deutrussia."

"Oh, " was all he said. "That's a twist."

"How do you of all people know so much about Prince Alfred and Princess Julchen?" Natalia asked casually, stirring the porridge.

Vanya smiled sheepishly. "The girls here like to gossip. It gets pretty boring laying around here all day."

Natalia supposed that could be true and let it go. Prince Alfred was a bit of a heartthrob to the displaced loyalists. They often expressed how they wished he'd sweep them off to safety on a white horse. The longer they stayed the more accepted that that dream was never going to happen.

"Eat," Natalia said and placed the porridge in his hands. "The only thing you need to focus on is getting stronger. Finish and I've got a surprise for you."

Vanya didn't need to be told twice. He finished the bowl in 10 seconds flat. "The surprise better be more food..."

"Hush." She placed a finger over his soft, full lips. "Be very careful."

She carefully held a mug in front of his face. As part of his healing, Natalia was training him to be more aware of his surroundings.

"It's hot, " He commented. He didn't have to touch it to feel the radiating heat. He moved his hands carefully until they covered hers on the mug. She gingerly relinquished it to him.

Vanya inhaled deeply through his nose. "I've smelled this before..." He put his lips on the mug and sipped audibly. He swallowed and grinned. "Did you bring me coffee?"

"You had a long night." Natalia nonchalantly pushed her hair behind her ear. "Don't make it a habit."

"See, I knew you had a nice streak in you." He drank it up a bit at a time.

"I'm not nice, " Natalia informed him.

"Could've fooled me. Then again, I never thought Belasomians had much emotion anyway."

She gave him a glare that he couldn't see.

"Hey Talia, you still haven't really told me why you're in Cheronava, " Vanya prompted.

"You haven't either, " she retorted.

"I can't remember. Why won't you tell me?"

"Because it's none of your business, " she said, touching his cheek.

"Talia." His voice was soft and sweet there was a slight rasp in his voice from talking quiet enough for only her to hear. He held her hand to his face. "Regardless of why you're here, I'm glad to have met you. I owe you."

"All this over coffee?" She tore her hand away. "You're a strange one, Vanya."

* * *

She waited until the night was deep and dark. It wasn't going to be easy to sneak past the battlegrounds, but she needed to get the harbor. Odds were against her that she'd find any ship going to the Old World that wasn't Amerandan, but she'd have to find a way. Even if she had to steal a ship herself.

She was near the edge of the encampment when there was a clatter and a curse. Natalia was starting to believe she was the one cursed.

"Vanya, what the hell are you doing?" she hissed.

"Talia?" he gasped in surprise.

His clamoring was enough to alert the camp guards from their half-sleep state. She crouched low to where Vanya was on the ground.

"Vanya, if you stole food again I swear to God..."

"Talia, please you can't tell anyone." He reached for her and grabbed what he could find. "I can't tell you why, but I need to get to the Amerandan camp."

"What?!" she slid closer. "You'll get yourself killed."

"I'll be careful. Just help me get out of the refugee camp, and I'll..."

"And you'll die. You'll never make it there on your own, even if you did have your sight. If you don't remember, you've been beaten to a pulp. I doubt you could overcome even the most incompetent soldier from either side."

"I have to try, Talia! If I can get back to the Amerandan camp, I can turn this whole thing around."

Natalia thought for a moment. She could use him. She could complete her original mission and get to the truth about Prince Alfred and end him for good. If she did that, perhaps her brother could have leverage. It was obvious by this point Vanya was a displaced Amerandan soldier. As despicable as it would be to help anyone from Amerandan, she could use the good deed to secure a ship back home. "No. You're not going alone. I'll go with you, but we're not going until you're healthy and you get Nurse Willow's all clear."

"Go with me? Why would you risk that?"

Natalia had to shut him up. She had to stop that line of questioning. She closed what little space there was between them and kissed him. It surprised him at first. His lips stiffened in response, but soon he allowed them to be molded to her persuasion. She placed her hand on his cheek, letting the suggestion grow.

She broke the kiss and felt her lips covered again. Vanya kissed her relentlessly, smashing his mouth on hers. She was starting to get dizzy.

"Vanya, " she chastised him. Holding his face away from hers. "Go back. We'll talk more tomorrow."

"Okay." He was breathless and completely under her will.

"Was that your first kiss, Vanya?" she acted coyly.

"No, but I don't remember anyone kissing me like that." he reached for her face. His thumb traced her lips lightly and sensually. Natalia felt her grip lesson, and he closed the distance between them once more. He kissed her slowly this time, parting her lips and exploring her mouth in a way that was fairly obvious that he had plenty of experience kissing. Natalia let herself relax and enjoy it for what it was.

"You know, I'd want to take you with me even if I wasn't helpless, " Vanya said.

Natalia had him suckered.


	9. The Show Off

It took several weeks, but Jules was finally getting used to the Amerandan schedule and customs. After all, she had to know them before she could break them. She knew exactly when the maids and servants would be passing the halls during their morning duties so she gave them the slip. If she had to spend one more sunrise getting tied into an obnoxious dress, she'd throw herself off of her tower.

Day after day was filled with manners and needlepoint. She saw Matthew far too little, considering he was her husband, and his mother far too often. When she did see the prince it was just in passing. Their schedules never did line up. Her feelings for him were still complicated. She couldn't even tell if she wanted to see him.

She snuck into the armory before even the soldiers and squires. She got a good sense of their quality and weight as she donned her own set of training clothes and light armor. She tied up her hair and hid her face beneath a helmet. She hid in plain sight as the soldiers filed in. She watched them change eyeing the state of their warmed up bodies. Sweat glistened from their bulking muscles. She frowned.

Eventually, she joined them as they lined up for the knight commander. If Jules remembered properly, he would pair them off for sparring practice.

The knight commander looked over their state and focused on Jules. "Another new recruit?"

"Sir, yes, sir," Jules said in the lowest voice she could manage while still sounding natural. Her accent was still obvious.

A few soldiers snickered. The knight commander smirked. "Ah, sounds like you're one of the guards that trailed after the princess. About time we received some Deutrussian aide no matter how scrawny. What's your name, trainee?"

"Sir, Gilbert, sir."

"Well, Gilbert, here in Ameranda, we have a tradition for new soldiers. My men will test you to see when you are ready to join our ranks. It'll take some time, but if you persevere, we'll consider you a real Amerandan soldier."

Jules was no stranger to the concept of hazing, and frankly, she didn't have the time to witness in that way what it meant to be an Amerandan soldier.

"Sir, I request test by combat, sir."

A few manly gasps and whispering transpired before the knight commander answered. "You have every right to request a trial by combat, but when you lose, the testing will only be that much harder for you."

"Sir, I accept, sir."

He looked at her hard. "Your opponent will be my second-in-command, the very model of an Amerandan soldier."

One man stood out from the line. He was tall, his hair a muddy blond and one of the bulkier forms Jules had spied in the armory. He gave her a snide look. Unlike the other soldiers, he wore plated armor. A heavy set at that.

"Since you issued the challenge, Sir Greggory will decide the weapon choice."

"Steel swords." He tried to intimidate her with his choice, but Jules was unfazed.

The knight commander had his squire fetch a set of swords, old, dull, and chipped. They had been well practiced with. Jules checked the balance. It was flawed.

"Don't blame the weapons when you lose." Gregor shoved past her and chose the longer sword. "It's only your skills and will that will determine this fight. It was your bad luck that Sir Clavin chose me as your opponent."

"Maybe so, but it is hardly good practice to send soldiers to the battlefield with subpar tools." She put the sword aside and chose one that was better suited for her height. It was thin and skinny and would suit her well enough for the fight.

"On your mark..." Knight Commander held up his arm and brought it down swiftly.

Sir Greggory charged right for her, but Jules was too swift. She easily sidestepped him and whacked him on the back with her hilt. He recovered fairly quickly and tried to swing wide enough to try to hit her.

She easily moved out of the way again. "Your range of motion is impaired. You're too slow."

"Shut up..." He tried to rush at her again. She dodged.

Jules was getting frustrated. "What did I just say?! I'm more dexterous than you."

"I'm not listening to some snot-nosed Deutrussian reject. Stop running away and fight me."

Jules let him get closer. She slashed at the fabric at his groin between the plates of armor. This startled him enough to make him stop. She kicked her leg up high to strike his chin, disorienting him and making him step backward. The threw her weight onto him, riding his fall the rest of the way to the ground. She held the dull sword up to his throat.

"That's enough, Gilbert. Sir Greggory has lost this fight."

"No," Greggory said as she started to get up. "There's no way I lost..." He was trying to catch his breath after getting his wind knocked away. "To some Deutrussian lightweight."

"You lost because I am a Deutrussian lightweight." Jules could feel herself swell with pride. "Who's next? Was that your strongest fighter or would you like to fight me next, Sir Calvin?"

The knight commander looked surprised and moderately amused. "What do you think, your highness? Feel up to a sparring match? This recruit is making a mockery of your soldiers."

Jules looked over to find Matthew watching from the sidelines, looking in admiration with a healthy dose of terror. She knew in an instant that she had wanted to see him again, which made her feel uncomfortable. The other soldiers looked ashamed performing as such in front of their prince.

"I wouldn't want to face them on the battlefield. Gilbert, was it?" Matthew said.

Jules knew from a glance from him that the gig was up. If she wasn't having fun before, she'd definitely have fun now. "This isn't the battlefield, your highness. The worst I can do is teach you a lesson."

"Mind your tongue," Sir Calvin snapped.

"No, it's alright, Sir Calvin. I guess I could use the practice." He stepped onto the training field and went to choose his sword.

"You might want to change out of your finery, your highness," Jules teased. "Wouldn't want them to get mussed."

A discernible blush colored the prince's cheeks. "Alright, that's probably best," he stammered.

When Matthew started to strip, Jules saw nothing to be ashamed about. His muscle build had the expected softness of a prince, but they were still well defined. There was a spray of golden hair on his chest that gleamed in the morning sun. The longer she stared the further Matthew's blush stained his shoulders. He turned around as he grabbed a training shirt. Jules could see that his back was flawless. White skin had neither a scar nor freckle all the way to his trim waist.

"Enjoy the show, Sir Gilbert?" Matthew asked.

"Very much so, your highness," Jules flirted back. "Not going to change your trousers?"

"I'd prefer not to."

"What a shame."

"He's a god damn puff," she heard the Amerandan soldiers sneer in whispers.

"Why? Do you NOT find your prince to be a fine, attractive, well-trained Amerandan soldier? From what I hear, Amerandan's were proud of the physical attributes of their prince," Jules said a bit louder making sure the prince and his gathering attendants heard. "If I'm mistaken, I'll happily take back my comments, your highness."

"Yes, we are all quite aware of the prince's physical fitness," Sir Calvin admitted. "A fine example of the male Amerandan frame."

"Alright, that's enough ass-kissing. Time for some ass-kicking." Jules squared off.

Matthew held up his sword. "I'm not really looking forward to this..."

Jules started the attack this time, fully intending on testing him. She swiped her sword at him mercilessly. He was barely able to keep up. He blocked her strike, and Jules pushed closer, steadying the connection between their swords.

"I thought you would. I heard you consider crossing blades a form of Deutrussian seduction..." she spoke low enough for only him to hear.

He pushed her back, finally concentrating. She went to attack again, but Matthew rushed to meet her. He took a swipe. Jules held out her sword to block, but the blade hit it at just the right speed and spot to slice it apart. She quickly dodged to avoid the tip of his sword on the follow-through.

His mouth formed an O in shock. He stood straight as if to say something, but Jules just threw the ruined sword aside. She quickly grabbed his sword wrist and struck his arm hard, forcing him to drop his weapon.

"Shit..." He grabbed her instinctively, finding he was able to easily lift her off of the ground.

"Sorry," he grunted, trying to subdue her from struggling.

But he was unsuccessful. She got her arms free and grappled him to the ground.

"Come on, Matthew. It's like you're not even trying to pin me." His elbow struck the side of her helmet as he flailed. She ignored the ringing in her ears and twisted his arms to the ground where she could hold them down with one hand. He tried to buck her off but she rode him with every motion. She reached her free hand to her thigh and pulled out her knife, holding it to his throat.

He stilled and could look her in the eyes. "I give..."

"Nice effort," she said and helped him up. "Too bad you couldn't treat me like an actual enemy."

"Don't think I'll ever be able to do that..." He looked at her now and she found his gaze to be embarrassingly warm.

The soldiers now looked at her in astonishment.

Jules took a deep breath, finally warmed up. "You next, Sir Calvin?"

"No. With the prince here, we really should be discussing strategy. Maybe some other time, but I think you've more than earned the right to sit in.

Jules grinned beneath her helmet. Prince Matthew half smiled and rubbed his arm. Sir Greggory visibly frowned which made her smile harder. If he had wanted to protest, he certainly couldn't now that "Sir Gilbert" had gained both the knight commander's and the prince's favor. The four of them and several other attendees went to the command room.

"Preparations for the new batch of soldiers are nearly complete," Sir Calvin reported to the prince. "We've gained the capital and personnel to send to the colonies."

"You've got to be kidding me," Jules scoffed under her breath.

"We'll be even better prepared once Deutrussia follows through on their end of the alliance and sends their men," Greggory added, giving Jules an accusatory look.

Prince Matthew made a face. "That wasn't part of the alliance."

Sir Calvin nodded. "They agreed to help train our soldiers and send men if they find it necessary but we haven't heard word since you've arrived here with news of the alliance. I was hoping you could urge them to send some of their officers."

Matthew gave them a confused look. "Technically, they've already given us their highest military official."

"Who?" Greggory said.

"Me," Jules said and took off her helmet. "If today's demonstration was any indication, your troops aren't ready for battle without some major overhaul."

The Amerandan eyes went wide, save for Matthew's. "Your highness!" they exclaimed and took a knee.

"Princess Julchen, your skills have improved tremendously since I last saw you. Forgive me for not recognizing you," Sir Calvin said from his knee.

"Well, I was twelve at the time, Sir Calvin. I suppose a lot of things have changed.

"I see that you went a little easier on our prince this time," Sir Calvin said as he stood. This caused Matthew to flush.

"It's not an account of easier. Just different. Matthew fights smarter than Alfred did, and he made the excellent choice not to piss me off." Jules said. "From what I see, your soldiers aren't flexible enough, physically and mentally. If something unexpected happens on the battlefield, they're as good as dead."

"Princess Julchen!" One of the ladies-in-waiting called out.

"Crap they found me. I'll be back later." She glanced at Prince Matthew. "Put some ice on your arm."

"It was very nice to run into you, princess," Prince Matthew said and gave her a little wave.

Jules was suddenly reminded of all the flirting she had done as her heart beat faster and she cursed internally. He may be her not-husband, but he was also a soldier. Maybe even the most important one. She ran off before she could do any more stupid, counterproductive flirting.


End file.
